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Fallenreaper female Member

ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

STATUS: Yes, I'm an oversize child. Deal with it. :P 6 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current Yes, I'm an oversize child. Deal with it. :P
2 likes
6 yrs ago
That moment you've got too many rp ideas floating in your head, but you don't want to overwhelm yourself? Yeah... I'm right there, suffering in silence.
6 likes
6 yrs ago
RP hunting is like finding the rare toy in the cereal box. Doable, but the time and effort is nearly more than I can bare!
6 likes
7 yrs ago
That amazing high when you realized how far you've come in improving your writing. It's impossible to describe, but drowns you in a positive glow.
5 likes
8 yrs ago
I love being a terrible person by making my PCs' lives miserable, it's art form that never gets old or boring.
2 likes

Bio



Personal details I've got enough room to share.


Username.....Fallenreaper
Nicknames....Fallen (preferred), Reaper, Devour of lost souls, etc.
Gender..........Female
Sign...............Libra (true to sign surprisingly)
Occupation....Wandering and exploring the caves of my insane mind
Location.........USA (Lost in the Cornfields!)

Status............Stable.



Active


Click the links (Titles) below to be taken directly to the thread.

Advance RP

Create-A-Hero
Accepting: GM/Co-GM Nitemare Shape, Hound55, & Dedonus


Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies
Still Accepting: GM TheDuncanMorgan


Casual RP

X-Men: The New Era - Issue II: Avalon Rising
Accepting: GM Almalthia, Co GM Pilatus


Legacy of Heroes: The New Age
Accepting: GM Jessie Targaryen, Co GMs Alfhedil and Apollosarcher


Nation RP

None

Arena RP

None yet.

Extra Stuff Featuring: Flight Rising.

Most Recent Posts

In The Return of Salem → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
&

Location: Skylar's Apartment
Time: Noon (3 pm)


After the stop at the store, Skylar inserted his key into his apartment lock. He gave it a quick twist then pushed open the door, nudging his mother inside first. His other hand snatched the bag filled with shampoo, some pre-made sandwiches for later, and other mundane things. The day had been exhausting for him. From his recent change in schedule and pay cut to his mother’s fidgeting nature, it seemed nothing was destined to get better. As if to confirm the cosmos’ unwanted gift, his eyes spied the rental due notice among the growing mail pile inside his door.

Sighing, Skylar paused to pick up it up. His wallet peeked out of his back pocket and drew his mother’s attention, he figure edged closer. The thought never occurred to him that his mother might actually have picked up pickpocketing in her lifetime. With a surprisingly smooth motion, she leaned over beside him and helped to scoop up the papers. Meanwhile, her other hand gently pulled his wallet from its cozy home into her jacket. Skylar’s head jerked toward her direction as she smiled weakly, hiding her crime behind a mask.

“I just thought you needed some help, baby,” she cooed softly then gently pushed his bangs aside, straightening up.

Skylar chuckled, “Thanks. I could use it after today.”

His mother just kept smiling as he began to open the fridge, putting the sandwiches away. He snagged a coke then turned back to her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Honestly, I think I’ve taken up too much of your day already. I should get going,” his mother began, edging back toward the still open door.

Lucifer was well aware of the changes that the Earth had undergone. The cars, the paved roads, the technological advancements. Salem was not untouched by this change. The concrete underneath his dress shoes felt strange. The last time he had been here, it had been grass and dirt underneath his bare feet. A car drove by on the paved road, so much different from the horse and carriage that used to travel the paths in this town. Houses and businesses stood where trees once had, more feet walked on the cement-covered grass, wheels rolled on pavement when wooden wheels had once rolled through dirt. Salem might not look like it once had, but with the return of his children, it felt like it once had.

He took his time walking around, taking the changes in, refamiliarizing himself with the town that gave and took away something dear to him. One building caught his interest as he walked by it; it seemed to be an apartment building. He felt a power coming from inside, a power that spoke to him. One of his children resided here. He breathed in, eyelids fluttering. Ah, yes, one of his children, indeed. He moved into the alleyway that was beside the building, following the source of power. It wasn’t terribly strong, but it was strong enough that he could track it.

An open window was above his head, the power curling outside the window pane and beckoning him inside. Lucifer gave in. His clothes rustled to the ground in a small pile near the brick wall of the alleyway, a black cat sitting atop them. The black cat lazily stretched, tail flicking, before hopping up onto the nearby dumpster. The cat jumped onto the window sill easily from there, its dark eyes peering inside.Two bodies were inside. It seemed they had just arrived back. An older woman and younger man. The young man, he had the power. The cat stayed low as he moved inside, landing on the floor with no sound, and staying hidden beside the kitchen counter. Another beautiful child. He wondered about the older woman. Who was she to this young warlock? Lucifer did not like her, for he had a bad feeling about her.

His feeling was not wrong, either. He watched as the woman expertly slipped the wallet from the young man’s back pocket, playing it off as an act of caring. His mother, perhaps. Lucifer did not care. He would let nobody take advantage of his children in such a fashion. They were younglings, who still had to learn of the hardships that the world carried for them. Yet, Lucifer felt something hot and protective cut through him. He had not seen his children in so many years, and to see one being mistreated- he growled, darting from the shadows, and getting in the open doorway. He puffed up, hissing towards the woman, before he attempted to jump at her jacket pocket, his intent to make the young warlock concentrate on it.

Ripley Reed’s eyes widened in surprised when the cat sprang from the kitchen. Her hands jerked out of her jacket causing Skylar’s wallet to drop to the ground, making a sound thump on the wooden floor. She back pedaled to distance herself as her jacket ripped loudly from the claws. A scream erupted from her lips while she held her arms in front, protecting her face from any possible attack. Skylar turned around in time to see the animal fling itself at his mother.

He hadn’t noticed his wallet yet when he dropped the mail on the coffee table and rushed to her aid. How a cat had gotten in here was a mystery to him, but he wasn’t about to let it harm his mother. Instinctively he tugged her behind him as he placed himself between her and the cat. His arms raised and body hunched down. He readied to pin the animal into the ground, hoping to immobilizing it.

“Whoa fellow, stop. Hey, where the hell did you come from?!?”

“Is that thing yours, Skylar?” She asked in an accusing tone, her arms pressed tightly to her body and trying to make herself small as possible.

“No, mom. I don’t have a cat. I’m not sure where he came from, but give me a second.”

“Skylar, don’t get scratch…” his mother said, her eyes casually scanned for his wallet.

Humans were such dramatic creatures. That certainly hadn't changed about them. The scream made Lucifer's ears pin back against his head, his tail flicking in annoyance. Through the young warlock's words, he discovered that, yes, this was his mother. The cat backed up some, in the threshold of the apartment, and watched the scene unfold. Lucifer found it amusing how the young warlock spoke to him. Humans were always talking to animals, as if they understood each word of English.

Lucifer wondered which children knew of their true origin, and which didn't. He was curious as to which knew they weren't the humans Lucifer looked upon with such disdain. He did not enjoy the thought that his children grew up among these humans, not able to properly flourish and practice their arts. He would be sure that changed, though. He eyed the young man, certainly not wanting to be touched. He let out a low meow towards the warlock, sitting down and batting his paw in the direction of the wallet. Lucifer wanted to make sure that before he left, the young warlock realized what had transpired.

Skylar hovered in place.

His hands were still high and ready to smack down the cat should it launch itself at him, his eyes studying its movements. When the aggression evaporated from the feline’s body, he found himself relaxing. Gradually his figure straightened up after he spied the familiar shape of his wallet. He reached a hand into his back pocket in order to check something nagging at him. It was empty save for his grimoire.

He couldn’t understand how it could’ve ended up there…unless- His eyes twirled on his mother. She recoiled under his shocked expression, his mind linking the answers to his question. His sorrow twisted its thorns deeper into his heart until it felt close to bleeding out.

As if realizing the ruse was up, his mother began to apologize, “Skylar, please… I couldn’t-”

“Get Out.”

A coldness cut into her from his demand. She stood there, frozen in place by his reaction to her crime until he took a step toward her. Snapped out of it by the dangerous aura he emitted, her figure flipped about then fled out the open door. He slammed the door in her wake. The lock’s click echoed in the apartment as he twisted about, pressing his back against the wooden surface and gradually dropped to the floor.

For the moment, he appeared not to care about the wallet or the cat within his apartment. His eyes just stared ahead. It kept the pain at bay and from consuming him, remembering why he hated the real world more than his dreams.

Once the young warlock - Skylar, as his mother called him - told her to get out, Lucifer casually moved out of the doorway, watching the scene unfold. He felt the power roll off of his child, caught by the wave of it washing over him. A slight purr came from the cat, eyes slipping closed, savouring the potential he could sense from this warlock, Skylar. He heard rather than saw the door slam shut. The cat slowly opened his eyes, seeking out Skylar. The cat tilted his head curiously as the young warlock sat on the floor. He could tell his child was in pain, but alas, that was the world they lived in. Pain was natural, though it didn't mean Lucifer had to like seeing any of his children distraught. But, it was something they had to learn to push through, or else they would never become as powerful as Lucifer will teach them to be.

The cat looked around the apartment. Unlike the child he visited before, this one had nothing emitting power sitting out. Lucifer wondered how Skylar practiced his spells without these objects. Perhaps they were simply hidden. The cat darted into the living room, attempting to sense the power of anything that would prove to him this child had been busy practicing his spells. There was a power coming from Skylar, himself, but that was normal. The cat was careful as he made his way through the apartment, being sure to not knock into anything, or to not be loud in his exploration.

Skylar’s eyelids gradually fell close. His head leaned forward, coming to rest upon his chest, as his consciousness slipped away. The familiar energy licked across his skin causing it to tingle rapidly. His legs folded into each other creating a comfortable Indian style posture. The flare of his nostrils twitched, inhaling in then out slowly. Gradually his shallow breath seemed to no longer exist when he felt pulled into his domain. To the outside world, he appeared to have fallen asleep upright at his door. However, the energy that swirled around him and filled the room screamed otherwise.

The cat was on his hind legs, sniffing at a closed cabinet door, when the feeling in the room shifted. The air seemed to come alive, sparking with energy that made the cat whirl around to look at the young warlock. Skylar appeared to be asleep, but Lucifer could feel the truth. He was not sleeping; he was using his gifts. The cat took a few steps closer, peering at the young Skylar. The energy wrapped around Lucifer like a warm blanket. It had been so long since he had seen one of his children using their gifts. It was breathtaking. The cat sat down, dark eyes locked on Skylar. The cat became like a statue, unmoving, not even his tail sliding across the floor. Lucifer was completely taken by the energy hanging heavy in the air, weighing down on him, forcing him to stay and watch.

He wished he could know what his child was doing. Skylar must have something on his person that was giving him the ability to do this. Perhaps that was why Lucifer felt such strong power from him before. Either way, the cat was locked in place, the only thing indicating the cat was real the soft purring sounds swirling alongside the energy in the apartment. Lucifer was no stranger to the passage of time. He had spent many years not paying it any mind, for it could drive any being mad. Because of that, when he came back to himself, almost an hour had passed without his noticing. The young warlock was still radiating energy, yet Lucifer knew he had other children to visit. Perhaps they were practicing their arts now just as Skylar was. The cat lingered for a moment more, breathing in the air, and letting out a soft mewl. The cat didn't glance back as he jumped onto the kitchen counter, and disappeared out of the kitchen window.
In Ultralight → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
One I played or just a character from one in general?


A character you have used or designed for an rp before.
In Ultralight → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Not concerned about people disliking Asche, just felt like sharing the story behind why i used that character.


I figured I make conversation at least. This OC has been pretty quiet for a while and activity helps it. What's been your favorite character in a rp that you've played?

PS: anyone can answer that btw. I love hearing everyone's thoughts, stories, etc.
In Ultralight → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
So, I've gotta confess something.

The character I am using was written with one assumption in mind; that due to the setting and description given, EVERYONE was gonna be fielding OTT edgy characters.

And then nobody but me did so.

Not super relevant to anything, just felt like sharing.


I made an Edge Lord Character for a Mass Effect Rp... and funny enough, everyone loved him. I'm sure that's the case here as well. ^-^
In The Return of Salem → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Aamaya

I've already posted and twice, appreciate the check-in. If any characters are currently sleeping in Salem give me a shout! For context, due to the upcoming collab involving our favorite Demonic father and our dream child, Skylar is going to be using his magic to pretty much escape his pain. IF any Player would like him to pop into their character's dreams, let me know. We can plot for it to happen naturally.
In Ultralight → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Buzzkill@Concept@Lotrix Molick@Phantomlink959@Fallenreaper

Sorry for ghostin' on y'all. I got kinda sick a few weeks back and I'm now recovering. If you're still interested, holla at me. I'll do my best to kickstart this thing back up.


Sickness happens and hope you're feeling better.

I'm still in, but the pace is a bit slower than I expected. Especially since I can't enter until after this scene is over. So it's more of a waiting game for me.
In Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


&

Location: Lachance Stronghold – Henderson, Nevada —> Sunrise Hospital
Time: Noon, the Day before the Satellite Attack —> Morning, Two Days after the HoH arc


Benjamin sat in the overly starched sheets curled about his thin body. The back of his bed propped up his torso while his head stared at the window, watching the morning light dance through the gossamer curtains. Birds bobbed fluttered across it while singing their morning songs in blissful ignorance about his mood.

The IV drip mixed with the hospital’s activity in the backdrop, adding to the depressive state his mentality was in. Chemicals, body odor, and sickness swept through his nostrils causing his middle to churn from rising anxiety. The wolf inside him didn’t like this place. A mutual feeling he shared after discovering he couldn’t hold anything down, making him weaker since the Lachance stronghold.

Memories began to swirl around in his head.

He had went back to his room in order to inform Katarina about their departure when he found the letter. More evidence that he could trust no one to stick around and their connections were fleeting, his heart drowned in disappointment. Knowing he couldn’t stick around, Yeong and him used the wand to return to his hotel room. Once back, Yeong received a call about Ji. Something had happened during the Agency registry causing the pair to become fugitives. He doubted he likely would ever see them again.

On the day of the Hounds of Humanity’s attack, Vegas went into lock down. Civilians were ushered into underground areas, from parking lots to bunkers, where everyone ended up huddling into darkness. The next day, the threat had passed and word of the heroes victory spread. It was during that time Benjamin remembered collapsing from weakness. The last thing he heard before he wound up in the hospital was Lori’s voice trying to coax him awake. A failing attempt for kindness.

Now he could only watch time pass as his figure got weaker and weaker. The doctors were baffled to why he couldn’t hold anything down. Series of blood tests were done, and none resulted in an answers. Theories were tossed about with no evidence to support them as drugs were introduced to his IV to see his reaction to them. He wondered how he hadn’t overdosed yet.



Things had been strange as of late, for Joseph Walhforth it was even abnormal. But as he found himself in a Hospital in Nevada he knew exactly what he was here for even if he himself doubted his existence. Memories that were and weren't his flowed into his mind as he changed his clothes and donned scrubs. He was a doctor even as his sisters chose the business side of the family he went to medical school being the second oldest meant he had far less pressure to succeed as the heir; so he studied medicine and psychology. Stepping through the halls he had already checked in with the nurses specialists had been called in with an unusual case and he was already aware of the patient having disguised himself earlier. He was a doctor, and a hunter. And now a patient needed him and he knew what the diagnosis was. “Mr Reeves. Dr. Walhforth. I heard your son had a unusual condition. How is he faring?”

Daniel Reeves turned from his cell phone conversation, cutting it short with a quick word and pocketed it. His attention turned to Dr. Walhforth before nodding his acknowledgement. Fully turning his figure around to face the man, Daniel began to address the situation.

Standing before him was a young man who was far younger than the average doctor specializing in their field should be; he wore it as a badge of honor that he could graduate and accomplish so much before his thirtieth birthday. He held out his olive skinned hand for a greeting and listened as the father began to explain things for a second time. As his earlier disguise was either that good or the man simply couldn't bother to put the two together something he couldn't help but judge the man for. “Early bulimia. Odd. Perhaps I can find something. Can I have a few moments alone. I'd like not to crowd the boy if possible. This must be quite stressful on him, hospitals are often strange for young children. Even those of adolescent age.”

“I suppose if it helps,” Daniel glanced back at Ben, silently, then gestured for his girlfriend to come with him.

Lori hesitated before she stroked Benjamin’s head, pushing his bangs away. She leaned down to whisper something quietly under hearing range. Casually she stood upright then followed Daniel out of the room.

“Thank you Mr Reeves.” Moving into the boy's room he softly closed the door behind him. And no doubt the boy could smell him if he was conscious enough. “Benjamin Reeves. I am Joseph Walhforth perhaps your new doctor. That depends on how this goes. I heard you had signs of bulimia which would make sense if you had the damage from it. I assure you that is not what you have. And I know what you have with certainty. After all I'm a specialist in your kind. Tell me how does the wolf fare these days?”

Benjamin weakly twisted his head from his pillow and faced the doctor. His eyes narrowed on the man before causing the gears inside his head to grind slowly through the weakness attacking his body.

“I don’t know… what do you think?” He couldn’t help but growl, through the sound was like a defeated animal. One waiting for the end.

“He's dying. You're dying. If you can't answer a simple question then that means you haven't received any training or even social cues from other wolves. Loneliness is a serious issue for wolves and it will kill them if something isn't done. Not all. But for someone as young and inexperienced as you it has begun to reject food and is killing you both. I can temporarily stop that. But it is a stop gap. A medicine that is a weak poison. Enough to weaken the beast. Something used by other werewolves to prevent turning, something no longer in use because it'll build up and kill you.” Joseph stopped and sat next to the boy. “Your choice. A single use won't kill you. But this will not happen again, you need to learn to be in harmony with your wolf. And we'll need to come up with something to satisfy the hospital. And your father.” Pulling out a jar with an unusual worm. He sat it down. “This will do. Eating it will not be pleasant.”

“No way I’m eating that. Why do you care? I’m just another series of numbers on your paycheck,” Ben snapped abruptly, his words intended to hurt and distance himself.

His figure slumped back into his pillow where he turned to the wall. He refused to look at the worm as he continued to explain.

“Besides, my ‘wolf’ doesn’t want to be in harmony with me. Something about it’s hard to co-exist with someone that’s unable to face… things.”

“I don't, I don't know you. But I did nothing once I lost someone and I became a doctor because I didn't want to sit on the sidelines again. I'm a Champion of the mortal realm. Just perhaps not this realm.” Joseph said as he paused a few times in his speech.

“I’m pretty sure every doctor might’ve thought that same thing at one point. It still doesn’t resolve the problem. When my wolf wakes up, I’ll just start throwing up again,” Benjamin pointed out, accepting that he was trapped in the conversation.

“How do you intend to prevent that?”

Thinking Benjamin did have a point, it would be hard after the boy ate to keep any food down once the wolf began to stir. He'd have to make a bond with someone soon, hopefully he could come up with something. “We'll cross that later. I have an Aunt who works with SPARK she may be able to provide some services to connect you with more of your kind. If not something will need to be done. For now we need preventative measures to improve your survival rate. And I might need to be quick about it as your father and I say that lightly, will be getting impatient.” With a flourish Joseph's hand moved and he let loose a wave of light that almost moved with it's own will. “Just a simple healing spell.” Engulfing the boy it permeated his skin and sunk all the way to the bones as if he was being warmed from the outside in.

Ben’s nostrils flared. His nose caught the scent of magic causing his head to snap toward Joseph, feeling the magic swell across his skin and dig deep into his being. Even as it faded, his eyes blinked in confusion.

“That sort of smells like… her,” Benjamin commented, not realizing his body had edged closer to the man. Like trying to draw comfort from a memory.

Joseph was a bit startled. Only a few creatures he knew of could smell magic. He had never heard of a werewolf with the ability even more so that he was entranced by it. “We’ll need to talk about that later. And 'her’ but for now..”

Benjamin Reeves, and his father Daniel. A laugh echoed as a man exited his car and strolled through the pristine halls. Coming to a corner he stopped when he saw Daniel.

”Mr. Reeves, and Lori. If you were coming to Vegas you should have let me know, but no I understand I hear your boy has become afflicted with something and I say that because I know the Editor of the local paper, good fellow. You owe me by the way convinced him to run his story later I’m not the only one keeping tabs on you. Being popular and all.”

With a red glow his eyes began to shine leaving Daniel and Lori almost zombified.

”But that’s not why I’m here and I’ll need to ask you two to give me a moment. Sit down, you both look exhausted.”

Lori was the first to notice him. She turned from staring at the room door then flashed him a weak smile. Daniel, meanwhile, had been busy chattering on his cell. She lightly smacked him with her hand, getting his attention immediately. Pausing, he held his other hand over the speaker to and saw Barron. The DA promptly closed his phone to give his full attention to the man inquiring about his son. His eyes glossed over in the familiar trance state while he shifted over to the nearest plastic seating arrangement, his cell pocketed for later. Lori appeared to follow suit as well.

Their figures slumped down a bit, relaxing their tense muscles and laying onto each other for support. For the first time since they arrived, they looked like an exhausted couple waiting for news about their child.

Daniel was the only one that spoke, “We’re still waiting to hear news about Benjamin’s condition. I hope it’s treatable.”

”I'm sure it will all work out. Though I will need you to advert your attention as I walk on in. I'm sure you won't be the wiser while I'm gone.” Barron said as he reached towards the door he could feel another was in the room. His eyes glowing as he greeted the young Doctor. ”Ah how is young Benjamin? Barron Vanderbilt, family friend..” The glow grew brighter as he tried to convince the doctor who he was.

Joseph clutched a talisman a crudely made creation of his one he had to prepare hastily as he woke a week earlier. “Are you. I’m afraid this is for families only, we’re not letting the patient have visitors at this moment.” Joseph could tell almost instantly that what just walked in the room was no ordinary vampire. Powerful and immensely dangerous he just had to hope that there wouldn’t be a scuffle.

Benjamin jerked toward the door, his tension melted at Barron’s image. A mixture of intense anger and depression wrestled within him. The two poisonous scorpions trying to own the same shoebox. His eyes closed as he inhaled, catching the vampire’s rusty iron scent mingle with the blood magic he wield. It seemed to draw just a hint of life into his wolf for the moment.

Not wasting it, he let his eyes open then spoke, “If you keep popping up like this, people might start thinking you got a thing for underaged guys.”

He turned to Joseph.

“He’s not going to hurt me. He had the chance when I tried to rip out his throat when we first met.”

”Hey! Snarky remarks like that could get you killed one day, better bulk up even Spiderman learned that lesson. But you two seem cozy enough I suppose I can drop the act. Yes I know the boy, and yes I do show up quite often and this time with reason, well a few. I’ve been keeping an eye on you and your Witchy freind bumping elbows with a blue haired fae witch,” Pausing he questioned if that was the right word before his abrupt continuation. ”Ehh witch or not she’s just as cold hearted. Something about their craft just makes them cold you know, too professional or some shit. Anyways you talk to her again let her know her friend is a bitch.”
“Well, she’s not here. She left,” Ben tried to keep the hint of pain out of his voice, “Just like the ten others that left since I was turned, about what… nearly a week now?”

”Well shit, that’s rough but I heard you needed peeps so I got you some.” Barron said holding out a box of marshmallow confections. ”See they’re dogs.”

“I can’t keep anything down. I’ve already tried...and marshmallows are disgusting being thrown up,” Ben frowned, looking slightly green at the thought.

His eyes looked at the box then shook his head, trying to rattle the queasy notion away.

“Smooth. But the boy needs his rest and a pack. He can’t go on..” Interrupted by Barron he shushed at Joseph.

”Look I have that covered, I can set him up with a few wolves, let him train. Either here or in New York. I’ve got the manpower.” Barron said tossing the peeps behind himself. ”Look we fought, or well I beat your ass. But hey I took an interest I know that you’re valuable and right now more vulnerable than ever before and that is why I’m helping. I help you out and you’ll help me with a thing later. And unless you can convince your father that you weren’t here helping witches find lost artifacts and all that hair is just puberty; you’re going to need some help yourself.”

“I trust this guy like mold in my kitchen.”

”Your opinion is noted and ignored.” Clasping his hands together, he continued. ”Your choice is either be in my debt, or take whatever magic boy here is badly hiding from me. Honestly what the fuck is in that jar?”

Ben turned to Joseph, “I don’t either, but honestly do you have any better permanent solutions? “

Part of him was hoping, even slightly, that the man did. However, the logic and realism pitted the odds in Barron’s favor on this problem.

“I.. No.” Joseph said failing the boy. “I however if you wish will continue to be your doctor. I’d prefer to keep tabs on you than let you disappear.”

Barron holding his hand over his chest faked a shocked expression.

”You doubt me!? The boy will be perfectly safe. I’m not going to snatch him away. Not like a kidnapper though it does feel like it. I think I should rephrase something.” Shifting the conversation Barron snapped his head up quickly. ”Anyways your in charge Ben, my guys will just help you understand your wolf.”

Ben just gave Barron a look. One that screamed distrust and suspicion created by the simple, innocent statement. It was very clear Benjamin trusted Barron as far as he could throw the vampire, a distance that measured very little.

“Since I’m in charge, I decided to keep him as my doctor. I feel like I will need it. Our last few encounters rarely ended without someone drawing blood in some fashion…”

”Fine. Easy enough to accomodate. See I’m easy to work with we’ll be buddies soon.”

“Doubtful.” Leaning in he whispered to Ben. “I’ll get something to even the odds later.”

Ben just nodded.
In The Return of Salem → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Location: Al’s Chicken Joint
Time: Afternoon (2-3 pm)


Skylar’s movements were mechanical and routine.

Fingers curled about the frying basket’s handle, gently his wrist lifted it up then gave it a few good shakes. The fries inside gave a rustle at his gesture before he dumped them. Each little cut potato piece landed within a cardboard holder, neatly thanks to the metal funnel. He set that aside as he salted the fries. He paused long enough to gave a shout back they were ready to serve. Already he was moving onto deep frying another batch. He pulled out the frozen bag, sliced it open then poured a quarter of the bag in. He submerged the frozen fries under the piping hot oil as he finished up by wiping his hand on his apron. Finally, he reached for the timer and gave it a sharp click to set it, placing it on the counter next to the fry station.

He stepped away from the blistering heat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Considering taking his break now, someone interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.

“Skylar! Over here. Baby, can I talk to you?”

Instinctively he jerked around to find a borderline emaciated woman waving her arms in the air for him. She stood at the back of the growing line, smiling when he looked her way and increasing her antics. Ripely Reed appeared to be in her late thirties, her disheveled black hair graced with lighter red highlights. She had more striking blue eyes than him.

Skylar’s heart dropped into his stomach as he commented to Tom Skitters on his way toward the service counter, “I’m going on break, can you cover the fry station?”

“Uh… sure. You owe me though,” the middle-aged man agreed, shifting his large frame over.

Skylar ignored Tom’s furtive glances over at the woman still trying to get attention. He just mentally groaned in his mind on his route past the counter, his right arm reached to tug his mother alongside him. They came to a stop at the second exit in the restaurant when Skylar turned to face her. Her expression twisted into confusion over his behavior causing her to reach up her hand, tenderly stroking his cheek.

“Sweetheart, why are you upset with me? What do I do wrong?” She cooed softly, her words forced.

Skylar let her touch him, but he didn’t feel it was sincere. In fact, he knew it wasn’t. She came here wanting something because the addiction worked her like a puppet on a string. It drove her into seeking out ways to feed her fixes, either by playing a doting mother or pleading victim. Both churned his stomach inside out. To confirm his suspicions, he spotted a few puncture marks had new bruises.

He sighed then gently pulled her hand down from his face. His eyes took a moment to glance around and see if his manager was lurking, ready to reprimand him for slacking off. Callie Whetstone only stood at five foot and three inches, but her small frame and hazel eyes gave her impression of a lion when angered. Her long, wavy blond hair was tied into a neat ponytail. Like Skylar, she appeared to be fairly early in her twenties and filled with ambition for her life. How she wound up working at Al’s Chicken Joint baffled him.

A faint feminine shout erupted over the ding of the kitchens. It sounded like Callie was chewing out the new guy for his incompetence in his training. Relieved she was distracted, he returned to the problem at hand: his mother.

“I asked you to never to come to my workplace. How did you know my shift?” Skylar asked quietly.

Ripley paused. Her arm recoiled and fell back to her side, shoving into the clean but stained hoodie pockets. She melted into confusion over her child’s behavior.

“Sweetheart, I wanted to surprise you. I thought you would be happy to see me…,” She began, only to be interrupted by him.

“Have you eaten today?” He knew the answer as she bowed her head, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, you see… I haven’t gone grocery shopping because money’s been a little tight, you see. I was hoping,” she put her arms on Skylar’s chest as she continued, “could you give me a little cash to get by until payday? Please, baby. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She bit her lip and hung on his next statement. He could easily see the silent plead for the cash to feed her addiction, the parasite squirming and wiggling underneath the vision of his mother. It was a common image in his nightmares. Not that he had them anymore since he learned to control the space in his head.

Skylar just stood there. Silent and stone-like, staring at her shuffling figure. He inhaled then exhaled, mentally choosing his words carefully.

“After I’m off work, we can order something to go. I’ll start making meals you can pick up before I leave for work.”

“Skylar, honey, I need more than just… food,” she quickly added.

“We’ll head to the convenient store afterward then.”

His mother appeared to protest only to deflate. They both knew why she was here, and she failed to convince him otherwise. He might’ve loved her, but he was done playing her little games.

Their conversation was interrupted when someone again called his name. This time the feminine voice held more authority and anger than his mother’s, drawing Skylar to look over his mom’s shoulder. Callie Whetstone’s figure frowned from as her long legs whipped around the counter, making a beeline toward him. Skylar quickly leaned over to kiss his mother’s greasy forehead then bid her a quiet goodbye.

Swiftly he met his manager halfway, bracing for the thunder to come down.

“Skylar, why are you taking your break now? You’re not even clocked out and you know business is steady right now,” Callie demanded, her voice low enough she didn’t disturb the customers.

“I’m sorry, I had to deal with family issues.”

“And you chose now to do that?” She belittled him, then gestured for him to follow her to the back.

He walked in her wake without another word. His hand adjusted the visor decorated with the restaurant’s logo, a chicken’s outline in a bucket. When they reached a location where the cameras couldn’t watch them, Callie whirled on her right foot and began her assault.

“Skylar, how long have you been working here?”

“Nearly two years now.”

“Good, you should know the ropes and I shouldn’t have to tell you what you did wrong,” Callie stated firmly, “Now go clock out, you’re done for the day.”

“Wait, you just got upset at me for taking a break and you’re sending me home?”

Bewilderment crossed over his features at this new turn of events.

“Yes, you heard me. Consider this a lesson for being inconsiderate of others and don’t bother coming until around 10 tomorrow. Tom will be covering your day shift.”

With that, Callie twisted about to return to the front leaving Skylar standing there in fuming silence. He shrugged it off, for now, moving toward the makeshift employee closet and retrieve his things. His grimoire fell out of his military jacket, one he got from his father, causing him to pause to pick it up. The sight of it gave him an idea for making Callie pay later. However, he needed to deal with his mother’s situation before he ever got to that. He quickly shoved it into the same pocket as his wallet then finished zipping up for the cold weather.

With a small meal bucket under his arm, Skylar shoved the glass door open and walked into the daylight. The chill of autumn hit him directly causing his breathing to still in his throat. His arm tightly clutching the bucket to his side on reflex. He quietly thanked the weather for being mild today then he used his eyes to quickly locate his mother and spotted her lurking nearby. She gripped her hoodie tightly about her. She finally turned to spot him with her lips curled into a warm smile. He let the warmth of her image melt away his pain for the moment.

He stepped closer to her, “Let’s sit over by the street bench while we eat. Then we’ll go get your essentials before heading to the apartment to clean up.”
In Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Housewarming Gifts


Location: Nyhem to Claus’ temporary base
Time: Afternoon, 1 week and 2 days after the party
Collab with: @Klomster


Nyhem was locked within the autumn season. The rain drizzled across the city’s scenery, bringing the cool winds and salty air inland. Leaves were tumbling from their throne branches to pile across the cobblestone streets only to be cleared by busy feet treading the worn down pathways. Among the crowds was a blue skin female, the half-elven Dyril, on her way to the city’s gates. Her shoes slicked along the hard surface as she avoided the sprouting puddles collecting in the path’s holes and muddy steps. It was times like this she found herself missing the Elven architecture in Beilokias where water flowed into small made treads then shipped its merry way back into the local lakes or rivers. All out of sight and mind.

As Dyril approached the positioned guards, their indifferent expression told her everything. They neither stopped or cared for her presence while she edged past them. One only glanced long enough to note her appearance before giving a sound yawn.

She wore nothing that was made to draw attention.

A cowl was draped about her head, covering her neck and head from sight. Along the black dyed cloth were silver floral designs with a simple line edge, nothing too fancy. A dark poncho covered a slender tunic dress with the skirt ended just at her ankles. Her boots kicked the ends as her legs pulled along the road and brought her straight past the gate frame. On her arm, she balanced a basket filled with goodies that Kiseo had made up. Dyril suspected they would’ve been rather traditional to the Mao’s culture compared to the Elven one where well wishes were simply made. Those were often followed with secret wishes of misfortune, embarrassment, and worst within closed doors.

The half-elf pushed the thoughts away after spotting sight of the camp. The men’s rowdy shouts, boastering, and semi-military behavior made missing the place nearly impossible. At spotting her, one a young man rose then shot off to find Claus.

Claus was sitting in the command tent and approving and denying some of the suggestions and regular running bureaucracy of the company, papers and scrolls that needed approving by the company captain, things he had decided and just needed to approve, things that was just regular running things and a few things that sort of interested him for a few seconds. Like the report on how far along the repair of his armour had gone.

He liked the progress of the repairs that had begun the day before yesterday, but he cared less for the price.
In truth it was fair for a master armourers time, but that didn’t mean Claus had to like it.

With a quick tuck a trooper entered the tent and raised his hood before addressing his captain.
-”Steelhead, ‘lil Dyril is here.” A smile on his face, met with a smirk from Claus who responded.
-”Well, see her in then!” He hastily rearranged some of the papers on his desk.

Dyril was led in shortly after. Her hand reached for her basket, checking it was secured about her elbow, then looked at Claus. She pulled her hood down from over her head to rest at her shoulders.

“So, hard at work I see,” She gently gestured to the basket, “Is there anywhere I can place this?”
-”Put it here on the desk, since i assume we’re gonna explore what’s inside?” Claus answer was curious and of course ended with a smirk.

“Kiseo thought you would like a housewarming gift and she did tell me that each item symbolizes something for her culture. I don’t know fully what’s in side, but she was confident I would know them,” Dyril said as she sat the basket down.
With obvious curiosity Claus removed the cover to see what was inside. As he inspected each item he put it on his desk. Inside was some freshly made youtai, a fried bread Claus vaguely remembered from Beilokias, a candle he smelled but couldn’t place the scent of, but it was flowery, salt in a large pouch and a wine-pouch which he happily picked up and happily showed Dyril.
-”Aha! Wine, want to share with me? I have no idea what the scent is on this one though.” He said as he carefully ranged a toss and tossed the candle to Dyril. As she caught it Claus was setting up a pair of mugs.

Dyril mildly rolled her eyes, like a small sister annoyed by her drunken brother. She gently took a whiff and recognized instantly. A frown briefly graced her lips at when Kiseo had found the time to create a soothing scented candle was beyond her. Gently she set it back down then replied.

“Lavender. Its scent is suppose to soothe and relax anyone that inhales it, especially during times of stress. A few women use it in perfumes here in Formaroth, but the Mao use it for good health. I’ve seen this sold in Shingseng’s remedy shops.”

-”I see.” Claus was actually interested, but busy pouring the wine in the mugs. When he was done he offered one to Dyril and sar down with his legs crossed upon the desk.

-”So, what does the bread symbolise? And the other things as well of course.” He smelled the youtai deeply and put it down again. He figured he’d have some later.

“Well, from what both Kiseo and her mother, the bread symbolizes the hope you will never go hungry. The wine is for your life to have sweet experiences. I assume the other pouch is salt and that is for your life to always have some spice. Finally, the candle so your home will always be full of light and hope,” Dyril explained as she took her own mug, not surprised that Claus went for the wine first. He was never one to pass up the chance for a drink.

Spotting him sniff the fried bread, she then added, “She made it fresh this morning. I know this because, I had some for breakfast. She used sheep lard from a newly butchered ram. I’m pretty sure she’s making some potstickers and tofu, If you’re interested I can request she add another bowl.”

-”Ooh, some elven cooking. I think i’ll take that offer actually.” Claus checked the other pouch and it was indeed salt in it.

“The origins of potstickers and tofu is actually from the Mao culture. We just started to gradually absorb it into our own culture, much like we do with anything else,” Dyril corrected him.

Her lips curled into a softer smile, “Kiseo will be happy to have you, as would I. So, any idea how long before you could move into your new base?”

On that Claus fell back in his seat and exhaled in a troubled way.

-”The place was in a rough shape, all the inner walls needs to be stripped since the place had gotten damp in the insulation. Then the guys needs to put up new ones. I’ll however not put in as nice ones as was there before and they can forget embroidered walls.” He took a sip on his wine, a nice crisp wine.

-”That with the fact I need to redesign some stuff to fit all the guys… weeks, months. I’m thinking weeks though, my men are efficient and are motivated to get a proper house.” A rumble of thunder in the distance as well as the rain increasing explained well the motivation. Living in tents in the rain isn’t exactly fun.

Dyril jumped then settled back down, realizing what caused the thunderous sounds. Her eyes shifted to what served to be the tent’s doorway before returning to Claus. She considered her next words before putting forth her questions.

“Do any your men have building experience? I rather you weren’t crushed because the foundation was poorly put together.”
Claus shook his head with a smile on his face.

-”Everyone seems to forget it, the Steel Fist are specialised in siege warfare, many of the men are proficient siege engineers. I have set up siege towers and trench systems with their help. We don’t build it pretty but we build it strong. There will be no problem there.” Claus was confident and happy, not at all annoyed as he might have been had another person asked the question.

“Unfortunately, my… grandfather interrupted that education about the Steel Fist,” Dyril pointed out, unbothered by Claus’ correction.

Her hands folded into her lap as she thoughtfully looked toward the tent’s entrance. She knew the storm was approaching, but her mind couldn’t help but actually wander back to target practice. Every thump of the arrow hitting its intended spot made her heart jerk in excitement. Claus’ praise, even if it was overdone, helped to spur on that desire to become better. It was almost an addictive sensation she missed out in her life.

She had her wine only half drained now. She was a light drinker when she wasn’t required to dig deeply into the cup, mostly because she liked her head clear and able to spot any trouble before it happened.

“True, but siege towers aren’t exactly buildings. What are you aiming to build within it? What purposes will it have, aside from housing everyone between tasks?” Dyril figured she might as well get her mind off archery with helping Claus.
With a slight tuck on his chin, he pondered a moment before answering.

-”The usual, an office for me and a couple for the lieutenants. Katrina needs one as well, on top of that i need a practice yard, fake targets, archery range, those sort of things. But mostly it’s gonna be for sleeping in.” Claus answer was to the point, with a realisation he added.

-”Oh, and storage. Lots of storage.” He leaned back with his arms behind his head, imagining the storage filled with cash and booze with a grin.

“Sounds pretty simple,” Dyril noted, finally giving into her desires.

She placed down the wine glass as she bluntly asked, “I’ll admit, my original purpose for coming was a bit selfish. I wanted another lesson in archery. I need an escape from the stress of finding someone to escort my carts when I finally find the ideal climate for the mandrakes.”

Claus looked at the tent wall and listened to the rain for a moment.

-”Well we ain't loosening any arrows today. Blame the rain for that.” He turned towards Dyril, the times in the Beilokias they shared as they did simple archery training now a cherished memory of Claus, unlike all the memories of the wars which began to make themself known again. He shook it off and smiled.

-”But you know you are welcome to come and train archery any time you want. Swords, maces and polearms as well. If i don’t have the time there’s probably someone who’ll help you out as well.” He stood up and went to his pack and searched for a moment and produced a small hunting crossbow.

-”AHA! Here it is.” He pulled out and strung his crappy little practice crossbow, he’d gotten it from his mother once and kept it for fun. Dyril had honestly loosened more arrows from it than he but he didn’t care.

She shone up when he brought the practice bow.

-“But we can practice your stance! Now show me how it’s drawn.” He handed the crossbow over with a smirk.
In The Return of Salem → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




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